


the help that we give, the love that we live

by mothicalcreatures



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Antarctica, Established Relationship, Gay solidarity, JCR220, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Relationship Negotiation, mentioned Ann/James and Edward/Sarah, shocking everyone there's a saucy scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:21:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23722276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothicalcreatures/pseuds/mothicalcreatures
Summary: “I’ve heard you have quite the reputation as a prankster, Lt. Fitzjames,” Captain Francis Crozier said from his place seated across the wardroom table from the said Lt. James Fitzjames.--James Fitzjames and Edward Charlewood are Antarctica bound, with Fitzjames aboard HMSTerrorand Charlewood on HMSErebus,and a series of events lead to their lives becoming rather intertwined with their captains'.
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Sir James Clark Ross, Commander James Fitzjames/Edward Philips Charlewood
Comments: 16
Kudos: 28





	the help that we give, the love that we live

**Author's Note:**

> Haunted by the thought "What if Ross _had_ gotten Fitzjames for the Antarctica expedition?" I finally finished my fic about it, just in time for the end of JCR's birthday week.
> 
> Massive thank you to @blasted-heath for proofreading, you're the best.

“I’ve heard you have quite the reputation as a prankster, Lt. Fitzjames,” Captain Francis Crozier said from his place seated across the wardroom table from the said Lt. James Fitzjames.

James was immediately nervous. He couldn’t think of anything he’d done recently that would have drawn the captain’s ire, and he was about to open his mouth to protest when Crozier continued.

“At ease, I’m not here to reprimand you about anything,” Crozier said. “Quite the opposite, in fact. I have a proposal for you, if you’ll hear me out.”

James closed his mouth and nodded, unsure where this was going. There was a look on Crozier’s face that James might call mischievous, which was not an expression he was used to seeing on his normally quite serious captain.

“Good. As you know there are several penguins being kept aboard _Erebus_ for scientific study. I had a plan in mind to… _liberate_ those penguins and release them in Captain Ross’s own cabin.”

A grin slowly spread across James’s face as Crozier continued talking. He’d known that the captains were good friends, but this was something he could see himself and Edward getting into without prompting, not something he would have imagined his Arctic veteran captain planning.

“It would be a task more easily accomplished with an accomplice ortwo, and it was suggested to me that you might be the man for the task.”

“Very much so,” James said. “My only concern would be, well, landing in Captain Ross’s bad graces.”

Francis shook his head. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll be the one to bear the brunt of Ross’s irritation, I certainly wouldn’t throw you to the wolves when I _asked_ for your assistance.”

“Am I the only one you’ve asked? Or do you have a man on _Erebus_ as well?” James was certain that, if asked, Edward would be more than willing to assist.

Crozier raised an eyebrow, grin pulling at the side of his mouth. “I do, but it wouldn’t hurt to have another man. Do you have someone to recommend?”

“Lt. Charlewood,” James said. “He’s been my… partner in crime on more than one occasion.”

“Well, I’ll let Lt. Bird know that he’ll have an extra set of hands when I head over to _Erebus_ this evening. I will keep you informed.”

Their plan, when executed, went off without a hitch. Edward successfully kept the ship’s naturalists occupied, while Lt. Bird made sure that Ross himself was kept busy away from his cabin. James and Crozier, meanwhile, were responsible for the ferrying of the penguins to Captain Ross’s cabin. James had also been the one to concoct the story as to why he and Crozier had needed to make a quick trip over to _Erebus_ in the first place, replenishing supplies that had gone more quickly than expected—nothing that would raise eyebrows, but things that one might easily overlook when restocking.

“You are quite skilled in deception,” Captain Crozier noted as they made their way back to _Terror_ , with the technically unnecessarily acquisitioned supplies.

“I’ve had a considerable amount of practice,” James said, and it was true. Even outside of all the deception surrounding his origins, he’d always had a penchant for pranks, the more complex the better, and had cultivated his acting skills accordingly.

Across from him Crozier gave a grunt of acknowledgement that James found a touch worrying and he had the sweeping feeling that he’d said too much.

“It’s a skill,” Crozier said at last, “that when utilized correctly, can have much benefit.”

James had no idea how he was supposed to take that. It almost felt like it was a response to something James hadn’t said.

Not knowing what else to say on the matter, James asked instead: “So how’d you get Lt. Bird to help? I mean, he’s always seemed very close to Captain Ross.”

“Bird, Ross and myself served together in the Arctic before, so we’ve all been friends for some time.”

James wasn’t sure if Crozier was done speaking or not, but when he didn’t continue James spoke up. “That makes sense, I pulled probably my most elaborate prank on Edward- ah, Lt. Charlewood, it lasted over the course of several months.”

Crozier chuckled, but didn’t say anything else and they rowed the rest of the way back to _Terror_ in silence.

* * *

It was not quite a full two hours after their return that James Ross came barging through the door of Francis’s cabin, where he had most definitely _not_ been waiting and only half paying attention to the charts spread out in front of him.

“I suppose you think that was terribly funny don’t you,” James said, with no introduction.

Francis mouth twitched with a suppressed grin. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, James.”

“Shall I refresh your memory then, Frank? Penguins. Four of them. Released to run amok in my cabin? I’d just come down from talking to Lt. Bird on deck and…” James trailed off, pausing in the middle of stripping off his outer layers. “You bastard, he was in on it wasn’t he?”

Francis couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him then. “He was, my boy.”

“You know I’d thought it odd that you would come over and then barely stop to talk to me.” James shook his head, tugging off his welsh wig. “Did you even need the supplies you took?”

“Not with any urgency, though we are running low,” Francis said. “If you need them back, by all means take them. They were a convenient excuse.”

“I wouldn’t have given you the okay to take them if we didn’t haveenough to spare, it was mostly things for scientific endeavors correct?”

Francis nodded. “Someone dropped a large jar of the spirits used for preserving specimens and Lt. Fitzjames suggested it might be a good thing to request a little extra given the amount of specimens we’ve been bringing in.”

James narrowed his eyes at Francis. “I don’t suppose Lt. Fitzjames was in on this as well?”

“And Lt. Charlewood,” Francis added and James groaned.

“You turned _two_ of my lieutenants against me, and I here thought we were friends!”

James pouted, which did make Francis feel a bit guilty, but not enough that he attempted to stifle his laughter.

“I’ll have you know one of those little monsters bit me quite hard on the finger,” James said, finally shucking off his mittens and great coat and dropping into a chair across from Francis. 

“Well, since you’re here and not laid up with Dr. McCormick I’m assuming you still have the finger?” 

“I’m _injured_ Francis, and that’s all you can say?” James declared, quite over dramatically, and he waved his bandaged index finger in front of Francis.

Francis laughed and caught James hand, drawing it in a pressing a kiss to the injured finger. “Better?” 

James sighed fondly, laughing some himself. “You make it dreadfully difficult to stay angry at you, Frank.” He glanced back at the cabin door briefly before turning back to Francis.

“Jopson will let us know if anyone else wants to come in,” Francis said and he hoped desperately that he was reading the situation right.

He had, because James immediately got to his feet, closed the distance between them and leaned down to kiss Francis where he sat.

“I hope this means I’m forgiven,” Francis teased.

James made a show of thinking before responding, “In part, the rest will wait until I’ve thought up a suitable prank to play on you in return.”

Francis grinned. “Well, now that you’ve warned me I’ll be on my guard.”

James laughed and kissed Francis again.

* * *

James had heard stories about the sorts of parties that happened in the Arctic. Spectacles in the deep winter to keep busy and provide entertainment. It had been thrilling at first to think he might get to experience his own, but now seeing the real thing was even more extraordinary than he ever could have imagined. Sculptures of ice and a bar crafted from the pack itself, all manner of costumes—it was truly a wonder to behold.

“Presenting Captain Francis Crozier and _Miss_ Ross!”

The words were met with hoots and cheers from the men before Crozier and Ross had even stepped into view.

“I’m envious of his dress,” James murmured to Edward in a low whisper. “Mine’s not nearly as nice.”

Edward laughed. “Well, he is commanding this expedition. I imagine he got first pick of the costumes.”

James pouted dramatically.

“You’re on Terror besides,” Edward continued. “Different costume trunks I’d imagine.” He leaned in closer to James, keeping his voice low. “Anyway, _I_ think you look lovely.”

James flicked his fan open to cover his face so he could surreptitiously steal a kiss before pulling back to act the coy lady. “Oh, I say, you do know how to make a lady blush.”

Edward grinned and held out a hand to James. “Shall we join our captains on the dance floor?”

“Of course,” James said, accepting Edward’s hand. “But let’s return to this later?”

Edward grinned. “Certainly.”

It was well into the revels when James and Edward, giddy from drink and the general merriment, were able to slip away from the crowd to find a semi-secluded crevice behind a nearby hummock where they could have a moment to themselves.

James was almost immediately pressed up against the cold wall of ice as Edward kissed him fiercely. He could still hear the distant sounds of the festivities, the jingling of a bell from a game of bell the cat and the men cheering them on, but it all faded out as he groaned into Edward’s mouth.

“Christ, James I’ve missed this,” Edward breathed out against James neck.

James let out another soft groan, fisting a hand in Edward’s hair and tilting his head back to further expose his neck. “If you bite me there will be problems.”

Edward laughed and kissed James’s neck again. “I won’t, I won’t.” He kissed James once more before raising his head. “How much do you think we can get away with?”

“No one will come back here,” James breathed. “We’re well removed.”

“Hmm, but how much are you wearing under that skirt of yours?” Edward mused, beginning to teasingly hitch up James’s skirt. “We’re out on the pack, James.”

James reached down to palm Edward through his trousers, grinning when Edward tried, and failed, to bite back a moan. “We’ll just have to be quick then.”

“James…”

“Shh…” James slid his hand inside Edward’s trousers and smallclothes as Edward pressed closer.

Edward had to bury his face in James’s neck to stifle his moan.

James rested his head against Edward’s, letting his eyes slide shut as he closed his hand around Edward’s prick and began stroking him, slowly, but firmly. Edward let out a muffled whine against his neck.

“I’d suggest you stop that if you don’t want to get frostbite in severely inopportune places.”

James and Edward shot apart at the sound of Captain Crozier’s voice, James’s head jerking back to collide with the hummock and Edward losing his footing on the ice, landing hard on his backside.

James felt nauseous, all the merriment of earlier gone a blink. This was it, his career was over, as was Edward’s and it was all James’s fault. He’d been the one to initiate this, after all.

Edward scrambled to his feet as he tried to set himself to rights and Crozier sighed. “Get back to party, the both of you, and then go back to your respective ships. This will be discussed in the morning.”

“Captain Crozier, sir…” Edward began.

“In the morning, lieutenant,” Crozier said, cutting him off sharply. “Let’s not make this a scene out on the ice.”

Edward ducked his head. “Sir.”

Summarily dismissed, Edward dragged James, who’d been uncharacteristically silent through the whole ordeal, back toward the lights and music and festivities.

“I’m so sorry Ned,” James finally gasped out. He felt like he might cry if he said much more.

Edward shook his head. “None of that. Our lives aren’t over yet. Captain Crozier told us to return to the festivities and that’s what we’ll do.”

It was hard to feel comforted by that. Edward had never had to fight for his career the way James had. Moreover, there had already been a man flogged for, among other things, _dirtiness_ , aboard _Terror._ While it didn’t necessarily mean that sort of thing, it could certainly be utilized in such a way for crimes lesser than buggery.

Neither of them, in truth, had much of their previous spirit for the celebration, and once James noticed a few men beginning to head back toward _Terror_ , he took his leave of Edward to join them.

* * *

There was a part of Francis that wondered if he ought to have left lieutenants Fitzjames and Charlewood be. Still, better he be the one to catch them than anyone else. Frostbitten pricks aside, having to lash someone for sodomy was nothing Francis ever wanted to do.

James, of course, seemed to notice Francis’s shift in mood, casting him a worried glance, but didn’t say anything, at least, until they were alone.

“Be a dear, Frank, and help me strip out of this?” James said, beginning to pull at the laces of his dress.

Francis huffed. “You got into it on your own.”

“I most certainly did not,” James said. “I enlisted my steward’s help, like a proper lady.”

If Francis had been in better spirits he might have laughed, and it was likely attempt on James’s part to _make_ him laugh.

James finished removing his outer layer of dress, revealing his clothes underneath, and turned to Francis. “What on earth is the matter Frank?” he asked, his irritation plainly evident. “No, don’t answer that. Yes, we are abominably trapped in the ice, but you seemed to be enjoying yourself earlier.”

“It’s not that,” Francis said, with a shake of his head. “It’s to do with two of our lieutenants.”

James frowned and Francis grimaced in return. This conversion would, without a doubt, sour the rest of the evening for the both of them, but it needed to be addressed.

“I caught lieutenants Fitzjames and Charlewood, behind a hummock a bit away from the festivities. Not far enough away, in my opinion, for the sort of activities they were engaged in.”

James swore under his breath. “Did anyone else see them?”

“To my knowledge, no.”

James swore again and ran an exasperated hand through his hair. “And what did you do?”

“I told them to return to the party and that we would discuss things in the morning,” Francis said.

“Good, good.” James sighed, slumping into his desk chair. “As long as no one else comes forward, we can keep this between ourselves. Remind Fitzjames when you speak to him of the importance of caution in such matters.”

“Of course,” Francis said, drawing up a chair to seat himself across from James. “Though I would imagine being caught by one of their captains would inspire future discretion.”

“Yes, one would think,” James agreed. He was silent for a beat and then said, “Well, this has put a damper on things. I’d rather been hoping we could take advantage of the crews distraction ourselves.”

Francis nodded slowly. They still could if they wanted to, but Francis wasn’t feeling particularly inclined, so James would have to initiate if he wanted anything.

“Will you spend the night, at least?” James asked, reaching across the table for Francis’s hand. “That will be excusable I think, provided you leave early.” 

“Of course,” was Francis’s instantaneous reply, as he forced a smile for James’s sake. He shifted his hand forward so their fingers brushed. “Of course.”

It wasn’t _early_ , per se, when Francis returned to _Terror_ , but it was early considering when most of the men had gone to bed. Still, when he arrived at the great cabin, he found Lt. Fitzjames already waiting for him.

Fitzjames stood when he saw Francis enter the cabin. “Sir.”

“Sit back down, lieutenant,” Francis said, in a tone of voice that he hoped conveyed that he wasn’t angry.

Fitzjames did so without question and waited quietly as Francis removed his outer layers before joining him at the table. Francis didn’t think he’d ever seen the usually spirited young man so quiet and still before.

There was another beat of silence before Fitzjames asked, “Are we to be court martialed, then?”

Francis had to applaud Fitzjames for his nonplussed facade. It was clearly well cultivated, although at the moment the cracks were quite apparent. “There will be no court martial, though of course you understand that if anyone else comes to me about this there will have to be.”

Fitzjames’ face was a mask of stunned confusion. “I don’t understand, sir. Why… why would…” He swallowed. “We violated the articles.”

“We are in the Antarctic, Lt. Fitzjames. The rules change, not wholly you understand, but things are different when you are surrounded by ice. I could have you court martialed and lashed, but the lashing of an officer is no small thing and in _this_ it would undercut your and Lt. Charlewood’s effectiveness as officers. Officers that we cannot replace until we return to civilization.” Francis paused a moment, thinking on what he had discussed with Ross before he’d left _Erebus_. “Sodomy is also nothing I enjoy seeing a man lashed for; that would be hypocritical of me. It’s always struck me as cruel when no one is being harmed by it.”

Fitzjames stared at Francis in stunned silence and Francis could practically see the gears turning in the younger man’s head as he processed the implications of what he’d just been told. “Captain…”

“Captain Ross will show the same mercy to Lt. Charlewood, so you needn’t worry on his behalf,” Francis continued. “But I cannot stress enough that you both need to take greater caution. If it was anyone other than me who’d found you…”

“My career would have been over,” Fitzjames finished, eyes falling to the table, where he was anxiously picking at his cuticles.

“Likely, yes,” Francis said. He reached out to grab one of Fitzjames’s hands. “None of that, you’ll make yourself bleed.”

* * *

James flinched when Captain Crozier pulled his hands apart, and he pulled his hand back instinctively.

Crozier let him withdraw with a look of gentle understanding and James felt utterly lost. He’d been preparing himself for the worst, which was a perfectly reasonable assumption considering how he and Edward had been caught out. But not only had Captain Crozier all but hand-waved the mandated punishment—he’d incriminated himself to Fitzjames as well. Not in any way that couldn’t be denied, and yet… He’d also said that Captain Ross would show the same clemency to Edward. It was overwhelming to think about.

“Now as to actual punishment,” Crozier continued and James’s stomach dropped.

His expression must not have been as schooled as he thought, because Crozier paused. “Be easy lieutenant, the only thing you are being reprimanded for is a lack of discretion and common sense. You will have general duty owing to me, as well as extra watch duties. There will also be an increase in your duties pertaining to magnetics observation, when applicable, and no more trips to _Erebus_ until we are out of the pack. Understood?”

James exhaled as the tension in him eased somewhat. “Yes, sir.Thank you, sir.”

Crozier was quiet for several moments before speaking again. “Am I correct in thinking that being caught out by your captain was more than enough to encourage greater discretion?”

James nodded. “Yes, more than, sir. I… don’t know how to thank you, for… for not…” He trailed off, tears pressing behind his eyes, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself.

Crozier took James’s hand again, giving a gentle squeeze and James crumbled, tears spilling over even as he desperately tried to regain his composure. What a mess the captain must think him.

“Breathe, lieutenant.”

Crozier’s voice held no judgement, though James didn’t know how. He had served under captains who would consider an outburst like this itself a reason for punishment, and Crozier was letting him get away with so much more.

When Crozier drew away James took a moment to wipe at his eyes with a handkerchief in an attempt to bring himself back to some form of presentablility. As he tucked the handkerchief back in his pocket, the captain set a tumbler of what looked like whiskey in front of him.

“Have a drink to settle yourself and then get a start on your duties for the day. I think you’re one of the few who won’t be completely hungover.”

James gave a wet chuckle. “Thank you, sir.” He was finally beginning to find his footing again and he quickly threw back the offered drink. It was whiskey, and it had the much needed effect of relieving some of the tightness in his chest.

James remained on edge for the following days, weeks, and months, as they wove their way through the storms and sea ice. There was much to be done, of course, which provided a suitable distraction, but he could not forget what Captain Crozier had said about what might happen should anyone else come forward about having seen James and Edward. The more time went on the more sure James became that no one would, but it was not until they reached the Falklands that he truly relaxed.

Once they had freed themselves from the pack, and James was permitted again to travel to _Erebus_ (which was never a frequent occurrence to begin with), he had been much relieved to find Edward alright. Edward had chided him for worrying despite their captains’ reassurances, but James did not feel like his concern had been entirely unwarranted. It was a stressful situation regardless of how well they’dgotten off.

They had also kept their conversation limited about such things until they could find time to be truly alone. It would do no good to let rumors spread about what had already been so carefully hidden through the grace of their captains.

“Do you think the captains are… you know, involved?” Edward asked one afternoon, as they enjoyed some precious down time after spending all day either hunting for bulls in Edward’s case or working on the construction of a new magnetics observatory in James’.

They’d gone out to do some exploring on their own time, mostly to get away from others and have a more intimate conversation—as well as intimacy in general. Presently, they were sprawled out on the ground watching a bird circling over the water.

James was quiet for a moment, picking idly at the grass. “Perhaps, but I couldn’t rightly say. Captain Crozier… implied… certain things about himself when we spoke…”

“But that doesn’t mean he’s up to anything,” Edward finished. “Captain Ross didn’t make any such insinuations, but he and Crozier are incredibly close. You’d be a fool to miss it. They could have been a great deal harsher with us, given us the boot as soon as we reached Port Louis.”

James nodded. He’d had much the same thought, and there was a part of him, the part that railed that this was all too good to be true, that had thought that surely such a thing _would_ happen as they approached land.

“It would explain,” Edward continued, “how they came to such quick agreement about our punishment. Captain Ross was more upset that we’d been _caught_ and even then more concerned and disappointed than anything else.”

“Yes, Captain Crozier was much the same. Even went as far as to emphasize future discretion.”

“Really?” Edward said, propping himself up on an elbow to look at James.

“Not in any explicit terms,” James replied, starting resolutely up at the sky. “But he repeatedly emphasized the need for greater caution and discretion.”

Edward scoffed in disbelief. “The undercurrent to that being, ‘this will happen again, so when it does be more careful.’ Christ. Ross’s line there was more along the lines of ‘see this doesn’t happen again.’ Now I wonder, what didn’t he want to happen again? Us doing anything at all, or us being caught?” He shook his head. “We’ve landed ourselves in the middle of _something,_ Jamie, that’s for sure.”

* * *

Port Louis was a miserable place, and had recently been made more miserable by the lashing of one of the young ship’s boys for loudly, and falsely, declaring indecency on the part of one of the locals. The nature of the squabble that had caused the accusation was of something else entirely. James would not abide by falsehoods of such severity, and it was better the boy learn his lesson now than ruin some unfortunate soul’s life with a false accusation like that later.

One bright spot in all this, however, had appeared when James had overheard a conversation between Lt. Charlewood and a handful of the mates. Charlewood had been telling the others about his young wife at home, and had joked that she’d _really_ wanted to marry Lt. Fitzjames, but Fitzjames hadn’t been interested.

He normally wouldn’t have given such a story any thought, but healso wasn’t normally aware of his lieutenants’ proclivities for the bearded sex. And those two things combined had him thinking on his own impending marriage to Ann and what he had now with Francis. He and Francis had spoken at length before they’d sailed about what would happen once they’d returned; that this voyage should serve as the end of their entanglement. 

However, Ross had felt horribly jealous when Francis began to court Sophia and utterly distraught at the thought that Francis might prefer to stay in Van Diemen’s Land rather than continue on the expedition. The last worry had been based in a joke at least, one which Francis had apologized for immediately at seeing how truly upset it had made James. Now, though… now his thoughts drifted to Charlewood and Fitzjames. They were clearly still carrying on despite Charlewood being married, and the lady in question had initially wanted to marry Fitzjames, if the story was to be believed. Did she know about them? Did she give them her blessing? Might his darling Ann do that if James were to ask?

There was only one way of knowing, but he couldn’t speak to Ann about it now, and he certainly couldn’t _write_ her about it. All he could do at the moment would be to discuss it with Francis. And since Francis’s steward had proved to be _incredibly_ discrete about such things, they could have such a conversation without having to worry about interruption.

“Is Jopson about?” James asked as he entered Francis’s cabin aboard _Terror._

Francis raised an eyebrow. “I just asked him if he would get me tea— he’ll be back shortly. Why?”

James sat down at the table across from Francis, worrying the inside of his cheek. “There’s a conversation I should like to have, and I should like to ensure we aren’t interrupted.”

“That sounds ominous,” Francis said, thought his tone was light.

“It’s not ominous,” James assured him. “But it is… delicate.” He sighed. “It has to do with my marriage to Ann.”

Francis’s face fell at that.

“I… I should hope this is a good thing,” James said, quickly. “Perhaps a solution to-“

He was cut off by Jopson entering the room. To his credit, Jopson only hesitated a moment, before asking, “Should I get another cup for Captain Ross, sir?”

“If you would,” Francis said. “And on your return if you could mind the door while we talk.”

“Of course, sir,” Jopson said, stepping into the room to set the tray on the table. “I’ll return in just a moment.”

Jopson did not take long to return, but every moment waiting was agonizing. Once they both had their tea, and Jopson was posted outside the door, James began, informing Francis first and foremost about what he’d overheard from Lt. Charlewood.

“They’ve clearly been able to continue things despite one of them being married, and it given what Charlewood said about his wife wanting to marry Fitzjames, I do wonder if the lady doesn’t know something of the two of them.”

Francis frowned as he connected the dots. “You can’t seriously be thinking of telling Ann about us.”

James grimaced, ducking his head rather sheepishly. “She already knows, Frank. I told her before we left.” 

“You _what_?”

The hurt in Francis’s voice was palpable. “There… We were discussing a story,” James hastened to explain, “in the paper about a governess who’d… who’d taken up with her widowed mistress and Ann was… well, she thought it terribly unfair how they were punished. I… It seemed safe, and you’ll note she did not reject me for my confession.”

Francis relaxed somewhat at that, but he still looked quite upset. “I suppose you assured her that things would end between us when you were married,” he grumbled.

James suddenly found himself unable to look Francis in the face and became very interested in his teacup. “I did say something to that extent… that if she asked me I would end things.”

Francis let out a long sigh and when James looked back up, he saw Francis slumped back in his seat, looking utterly dejected. “And whatdid she say to that?”

“Nothing. She said nothing. I can’t be certain until I’ve spoken to her again, but I think if I proposed a scenario similar to what it seems Charlewood has with his young wife, Ann may be agreeable, or at least understanding.”

“You’ll be retiring when we get home,” Francis said. “Were we to continue, it would not be out of sight and out of mind aboard a ship. Lt. Charlewood’s wife may not mind it where it does not affect her, but Ann would not have that luxury if such things were going on in her own home.”

“We won’t know that until we ask,” James said and then he sighed. “Please forgive me Frank, I should have come to you before saying anything. The thought of losing you pains me, but I also love Ann dearly and I… I had thought I could end things with this expedition and we could simply remain friends. I should have known it wouldn’t be so easy.”

Francis shook his head. “You’re forgiven, James dear. You saw in a moment that Ann might be someone who would be safe, and she has proved to be so, given that we’ve not heard news of either of our names being dragged through the mud by the papers.”He paused a moment, finished his cup of tea in a single pull. “You know, I had planned on being horribly upset when you married Ann.”

James laughed weakly, but the heavy weight of worry had lifted from his shoulders. He nudged Francis’s leg under the table with his foot. “You should stay with us, on our return. Ann would not mind, of that, at least, I’m certain.” 

When their mail finally arrived at Port Louis it brought James an equal amount of joy and trepidation. He had received several letters from Ann, which he’d sat down to read immediately. The letters themselves had all been pleasant, but she’d also included some newspaper clippings, which were the source of James’s present concern.

George Barrow, it would seem, had landed himself in hot water while in Singapore. Specifically, he had been accused of sodomy and frequenting “unsavory establishments,” likely in the same vein. In some sense, Ann sending these was a comfort—her way of warning them, letting them know that this is what they would be coming back to the aftermath of, that he and Francis should be careful. Yet it was unsettling all the same; a scandal like this hit very close to home. James could only imagine the spike in severity of punishment for sodomy accusations this might cause among the Navy.

If Sir John Barrow’s son could be implicated thus, the lash would certainly come down harder on those unfortunate persons of lesser standing.

The news would shortly make it’s way around to the rest of the crew, he knew, as such a scandal would be likely to appear in letters relaying news from England, and there were others who had received newspapers from their families as well. Francis would need to be made aware, if he was not already…

There was a knock on the door frame of the great cabin just then, which jarred James out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see Lt. Charlewood. “I have a report about the new bowsprit, sir.”

“Excellent, come in,” James said. “Can we hope that this is good news?”

Charlewood nodded. “Yes, sir. The bowsprit is in place to be fitted just as soon as the carpenters finish taking the temporary one down. It should be in place before the end of the day.”

“Good, good.” He was still rather distracted and he worried the edge of the newspaper clipping on the table in front of him. “Lt. Charlewood, I’m sure you remember our conversation from the beginning of this year.”

Charlewood tensed immediately at that. “Yes, sir.”

“At ease, take a seat if you would. This is… well I can’t say it isn’t serious, but it’s nothing to do with you. Have you had a chance to read your mail yet?”

“Not yet, I was saving my letters for this evening,” Charlewood said, seating himself across from James. “Why?” 

James slid the newspaper clippings across the table. “It seems there’s been a bit of an uproar back home. I imagine there will be considerable chatter about it in the mess.”

“Oh… _oh…_ this is…” The tension had returned to Charlewood’s posture.

“My fiancée sent those with her last letter,” James explained. “I thought it best to give you fair warning.”

Charlewood looked up at James. “Thank you. I… Might I share these with Lt. Fitzjames?”

“I’m heading to _Terror_ in a few hours time,” James said. “I’ll bring them over when I do.”

Going to _Terror_ was an impromptu decision, but Francis certainly needed to see these as well and there was, of course, no knowing if he’d been sent anything similar until he went over.

Charlewood fell silent after that as he began reading through the clippings more thoroughly. James, for his part, opened the table’s drawer to pull out paper so he could begin penning his reply to Ann. They sat that way for several minutes, Charlewood reading and James writing, until Charlewood cleared his throat and James looked up to see Charlewood pushing the clippings back toward him.

“Thank you again, sir.”

“You’re welcome,” James said. “Now, I’m sure you have further duties to attend to, so, dismissed.”

* * *

James was in his cabin, reading over a letter from William and Elizabeth Coningham when there was a knock on the door. “Come in?”

The door opened to reveal Thomas Jopson, the captain’s steward, and James brow furrowed in confusion. “Mr. Jopson,” he acknowledged, almost a question.

“I have a message for you from Captain Crozier, sir,” Jopson said, holding out an envelope to James. “He would like for you to read the contents of this and then return it to him when you are next on shore to conduct magnetic readings.”

“Thank you,” James said, accepting the proffered envelope.

Jopson nodded. “You’re welcome, sir.” And with that he ducked from the room, closing the door behind him.

James examined the envelope itself as he extracted the contents. It was addressed to Captain Ross. Why would this be getting passed around? The answer was fairly obvious when James unfolded the newspaper clippings from within and he immediately grabbed for his stack of still unopened letters, looking for the one he’d received from John Barrow Jr.

The letter gave a very abbreviated summation of the story. It was also a stressful read, as John lamented his brother’s indiscretion, which reminded James horribly of his _own_ recent indiscretion. Thankfully, his had not resulted in such horridly public exposure.

It had been the result of blackmail, apparently, and George had not had the necessary funds to pay the man off. He’d written his brother asking for money, but with the mail being what it was, it had not reached John in time. Even if it had, James thought, would the blackmailer have waited for a reply? It was a nasty business all around. He couldn’t help but feel grateful he was so far removed from the situation. What might have happened if he’d been sent off to the Far East instead of allowed join Captain Ross’s expedition?

There was a note at the bottom of the letter requesting that James burn it. Sensible, but not something he could do in the confines of his cabin. He tucked the letter into his jacket pocket. He would be able to dispose of it properly once on shore.

Then he returned to the newspaper clippings that Jopson had delivered. It was the typical explicit yet veiled reporting that was always used for such matters. There was also speculation about a formal response from the Admiralty, or at least from Sir John Barrow the elder. James refolded the cuttings and slid them back into the envelope. He felt rattled. True, he would not be directly impacted by this, but it was far too close for comfort. He wanted to run to Edward and fall apart a bit, but that was hardly possible—or wise.

James worried the cuff of his shirt. He wasn’t due to be working on magnetics with Captain Crozier for two more days, and he hoped they’d be alone enough to actually talk about this, or if not this _something._ This certainly seemed to indicate what Edward had suggested, that the captains were in some way involved. Captain Ross had been sent specific relevant clippings concerning the scandal and the Admiralty, which he’d shared with Captain Crozier. James couldn’t help but wondering, given everything, if it wouldn’t be overstepping to ask outright.

James was positively thrumming with nervous energy as he sat in the observatory alone with Crozier, methodically taking observations.

“You know you have quite a knack for this,” Crozier said, glancing over the last set of James’s calculations.

James looked up from where he was doodling in his notebook, straightening himself a bit. “Thank you, sir. The maths are not entirely dissimilar to what I was doing in my gunnery training. It’s just a different application.”

Crozier chuckled. “Well, I’m certainly glad we have you here and not off doing gunnery. I would be willing to write you a letter of introduction if you’d like to continue studying magnetics once we return to England.”

“I… I would appreciate that very much sir. I should say, I’d like to find myself doing more things like this in the future,” James said. “This has been a fair sight better than my time on the Euphrates. Not to say the expedition didn’t have its moments, but it was a bit of a disaster. Well, more than a bit.”

“I expect the Admiralty will be planning another expedition for the Passage before long,” Crozier replied, setting down Fitzjames’s papers. “Particularly in the wake of what’s going on now.”

“Ah! Yes…” James reached into his jacket to retrieve the envelope of newspaper clippings. “Thank you for sending these to me, sir. I had received a letter from John Barrow the younger, but it hardly went into the same detail as the newspaper.”

Crozier took the envelope, tucking it safely into his own jacket. “You’re friends with the young Barrow?”

“To an extent, yes,” James said. They were friends, but not necessarily close ones, at least not by James’s standards. “I knew William Barrow first, but later became acquainted with John Jr. as well.”

Crozier nodded. “Well, I think you’ll have plenty of opportunity to pursue magnetics in the future. And as I said, should you need a letter for anything, do not hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you, sir. You’ve been exceedingly kind.” James hesitated, worrying his lip a moment, before asking, “Might I ask a bold question about you and Captain Ross?”

The question clearly caught Crozier off guard, because he froze and James was filled with dismay.

But then Crozier’s posture eased. “If it is the question I believe you are wanting to ask, the answer is yes. Though I would, naturally, ask you to keep this to yourself.”

“Of course, sir. There’s no one else to tell, save perhaps Lt. Charlewood, if you’d allow it,” James said. He knew he was treading in dangerous waters, but Crozier hadn’t told him off, which was worth something.

Crozier gave James a curious look and James swallowed nervously. “Yes, I will allow that. You’ve done well with what I asked in matters of discretion.”

“Earlier this year was a fluke,” James said. “Not as if that excuses anything,” he added quickly, “but I’m… I’ve had a good deal of experience, hiding things.”

“You mentioned that before.”

James frowned, trying to remember when that had come up in conversation.

“It was our first season in the ice,” Crozier said, to jog James’ memory. “When you helped me release the penguins aboard _Erebus._ ”

“Oh! Oh, yes… That feels like ages ago now,” James said, laughing a little. He remembered that now, and he wondered if Crozier had inferred that James might be talking about his predilections, as opposed to what James had actually been thinking of when he’d made the statement.

“While we’re here, I ought to thank you,” Crozier continued. “I owe you and Lt. Charlewood more than you know.”

James was flabbergasted, wracking his memory to think of what Crozier could _possibly_ be referring.

“It seems I’ve just been confusing you left and right,” Crozier said with a small chuckle. “Allow me to explain. As you may or may not know, Captain Ross will be marrying upon our return to England. We had intended to… end things. However, Ross happened to overhear your Lt. Charlewood talking about his wife.”

“Sarah,” James supplied when Crozier paused. Then he asked. “Was it the story about her wanting to marry me instead of him?” It was a reasonable thing to assume; Edward liked telling that story.

Crozier raised an eyebrow. “It was. There’s truth to that then, I take it.”

“Yes,” James said. “I’m… less inclined to marry, for a number of reasons.”

“As am I,” Crozier confided. “However, Ross took that as an indication that perhaps we could continue… despite his marriage.”

James was more than a little surprised that Crozier would divulge such personal information so freely, but then, he supposed they were kindred spirits in this, and those were few and far between in the Navy. “I certainly hope everything works out well, sir,”

Crozier appeared about to reply, but they were interrupted abruptly by the door of the observatory swinging open to reveal Captain Ross, who began swearing up a blue streak about one of the ABs dropping a box of his instruments.

Crozier laughed and Ross shot back that he ought to make Crozier go through them to make sure they still work.

“I’m sure they’re fine, you pack them quite securely,” Crozier replied, before turning back to James. “I think we’re finished with this for today, if anything else needs to be done, Captain Ross and myself can see to it, dismissed.”

“Of course,” James said, getting to his feet. “Thank you again, sir.” 

* * *

“I told Lt. Fitzjames about us,” Francis told James a while later as they went through the box of dropped instruments. Everything was fine, as Francis had expected, though James was insistent that the dip circle was off. (“It matches that calculations Lt. Fitzjames and I took with mine mere hours ago,” Francis had said, to which James had huffed and continued to fiddle with the instrument.)

That got James to stop his continued hunt for defects in perfectly fine scientific instruments. “Frank, was that wise? Not that I don’t trust our lieutenants, but not even Bird knows, and he’s been a dear friend for years.”

“I understand your reservation,” Francis replied. “But we know Lt. Fitzjames and Lt. Charlewood to be more like us in this one specific regard, and therefore safer confidants. And… I rather felt we owed them honesty considering they were, however accidentally, the reason this expedition will not spell the end of.. of us.”

“But you only told Lt. Fitzjames,” James said, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Yes.” He reached into his coat for James’ envelope of clippings. “It came up because he returned these to me. Did you know he’s friends with the younger John Barrow?”

James raised his brows as he took the envelope from Francis. “I hadn’t known that, no. He’s a well connected young man.” James sighed. “They have been quite discrete ever since…”

“I think this whole affair shows how easy it is for even the most discrete to get into trouble,” Francis added. “Before that errant moment, I wouldn’t have guessed at either of them.”

James nodded. “Yes, they’ve been excellent lieutenants otherwise. I’m damn pleased I was able to get them. I heard rumor they wanted to send Fitzjames to China, which I suppose would have put his gunnery skills to good use, but would have been quite the loss for us.”

James was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “Do you think I should risk writing to Ann about this?”

“It may be wise,” Francis said. “To, at the very least, let her know you received her letter and the newspaper cuttings.”

James fiddled halfheartedly with the dip circle on the table in front of him. “I can’t say I’m looking forward to returning to this.”

“Hopefully it will have settled but the time we return,” Francis said, though he too shared James’ concerns about what the lasting impact of this might be.

“Yes…” James murmured. “But for now, let us make the most of our time here. You know, I was thinking we ought to try for one more season in the ice. Try to penetrate further south than we managed this past year.”

James began fussing with the dip circle again, and Francis reached over and pulled his hand away from the device. “That’s enough of that, James dear. The instruments are fine, and there will be plenty of time to fiddle more if we’re to make another year of it.”

James looked mildly irritated when Francis took his hand, but he didn’t pull it away.

“Besides,” Francis continued, a smile growing on his face as he ran his thumb over James’s knuckles. “You’ve yet to have your revenge for the penguins. I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten or if you were so poor at pranking that it had escaped my notice.”

“How _dare_ you,” James said, though he was grinning broadly. “Slander my pranking skills… You’ve raised the stakes, old boy.”

Francis laughed. “Have I now?”

“Utterly horrid,” James muttered, still grinning. He squeezed Francis’s hand and tugged him forward. “Come over here and kiss me and I’ll consider forgiving you.”

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Lt. Bird was a messmate of Ross and Crozier's on Parry's expedition. He and and Crozier were midshipmen while Ross was a lieutenant. Bird was the last of the trio to achieve captaincy.  
> 2\. The two instances of flogging for dirtiness and the false accusation actually happened on the expedition. They were documented in the journal of Sergeant William Cunningham (and discussed in Michael Palin's book "Erebus").  
> 3\. Erebus's bowsprit was destroyed when Terror and Erebus collided trying to avoid an iceberg, a new one had to be called for when they reached the Falklands.  
> 4\. Ross really did want Fitzjames and Charlewood for the Antarctic expedition and complained about having not gotten them.  
> 5\. While I have no concrete plans for a sequel, I am open to writing more of this should the inspiration strike.


End file.
